Home Visit
by acme54
Summary: Child Protection visit John and the Wee!Winchesters
1. Chapter 1

"Shoot it Dean!"  
"Shhh Sammy"  
"Shoot!"  
"Not now Sammy. Play with your car." The older boy tried to keep the younger quiet.  
"Please Dean! Shoot the gun" the small boy begged. Dean sighed, picked up the plastic gun, fired off a couple of ping pong balls. Sammy ran off gleefully to get them.  
"Better than a puppy!" Dean smirked at the Officer of the court.

Child services had to have a court official come with them on visits. Make sure children were taken nice and legal. Not on this visit, this was evaluation. It was a three strike kind of deal. Like softball. Strike one, the school nurse had noticed a couple extra bruises. Dean came in broken arm and Sammy's black eye. The paper trail had led the nice lady from child services, to the door of their rented house.

"Dean" Dad's tone was perfectly pitched. Pretend I am telling you off.  
"Yes sir?" he stood to attention on habit. Relax, Dean thought. Respect. Not fear.  
"Take you brother into the kitchen" John motioned for the man and woman to sit the other side of a battered coffee table.  
"Yes sir" he opened the hatch on the gun and dug out a ball. Throwing it into the kitchen he yelled "Fetch!" Sammy ran in after it.

They had been to three toy stores and through the supermarket before finding a toy gun that looked like the real deal. It was possible someone had seen Dean take the shotgun to the car. It was barely daylight, but nosey people got up with the crow too.  
Sammy had got a new car for his collection. Marked down because of the paint chipped off.

"Good boy, Sammy" Dean closed the kitchen door behind him.  
"Dean?" Sammy let the ball drop. It was a prop. The gleeful child melted, into a too old for his years slump.  
"Yeah?" Dean put the gun on the table, automatically facing it away from him and out of Sammy's reach.  
"Is Dad in trouble?" Sammy twisted his hand together.  
"No. It's Dad. He can talk his way out of anything." Dean assured him  
"Why are we 'tending in the house?" Sammy explained.  
"Cos they are here to see the loud, slightly clumsy children of the tv generation. They won't understand the dark things. CPS will take us away. They will think Dad is hurt us, or letting someone hurt us"  
"Oh" Sammy nodded. "But Dad would never hurt us. Tell 'em Dean."  
"Sammy….. you listen to me" Dean got down to Sammy's level "they don't understand. They are too old to get it"  
"Dad's old. He gets it." Sammy argued  
"He's Dad. They would freak out. Kids ain't sposed to fight ghosts." Dean paced across the floor and round the table.  
"We're kids Dean" More Sammy logic, Dean walked back over to Sammy again.  
"We are Winchesters" he said, a hint of pride coloured the statement.  
"What's the difference?" asked Sammy  
"More ammo" Dean ruffled his hair "You'll get it when you are older"  
"You said old people don't get it. They would be scared of the bad things"  
"Stop being so smart Sammy"  
"Can't"

Dean took his best knife out of his back pocket and put it in the kitchen drawer. They would want to talk to them soon. Kids weren't meant to carry knives either. He crouched down a little to meet his brother's eyes "You remember what Dad said to say if a policeman asks questions about us?"  
Sammy thought hard."Call him Sir"  
"Right" he put his hand on the left shoulder "What else?"  
"Keep answers short. Back your plays. If I can't answer questions without lying, then I ask for juice." Sammy listed.  
"Well done kiddo" Dean ruffled his hair again.  
"Sometimes I feel old. I don't get it." Sammy said quietly. He stared at the floor. Like he was wishing it would open up and the answers to all the questions would come out.  
Dean looked at his brother. He looked so small. Taking a couple of steps back into the room he questioned "Do I ask you for juice Sammy?"  
"What?" Sammy looked puzzled.  
"I will always answer your questions" Dean didn't look away.  
"You are silly." Sammy hugged his brother. "Juiceless silly Dean"  
"Eww! Now I have Sammy cooties"  
"I don't have cooties"  
"Yeah you do. Hundreds of them. Well… not any more. They are all over me" Dean brushed down his jeans.  
"Daaaad!" Sammy ran back through the kitchen door again. He ran into the table where his Dad sat. He grabbed at his shin and hopped a little.

Dean stood in the doorway.

------------------------

John had made a show of pretending the boys were only in the backyard, not over the fence in the empty house next door. Sammy had been hanging the clothes they had bought at goodwill on the line. Dean had been in the house, putting flowers in the kitchen window and a couple of newspapers at the front door. They had "borrowed" a lawnmower from down the street. Leaving by the back door. Ready for use. Dean boosted Sammy over the fence when he heard Dad yell. Following him over, he noticed there was a lot of underwear on the line. Some faded jeans and a purple bath robe. Dean didn't know what women put on their washing lines.  
Maybe it could be right.

----------------------------

"Daad! Dean says I have cooties" he rubbed his leg until the sting went away.  
Dad rolled his eyes. Gave the "Kids. What can you do?" look. He grabbed the small boy's waist and tipped him upside down.  
Sammy giggled "Daddy!" he laughed and squirmed. "Let me see" Dad looked the boy up and down. "Yup. I think they all fell off" he put him back on his feet.  
"Behind the ears!" Sammy said, presenting his left one.  
Dad grinned and checked both ears. "Nope. No cooties. No potatoes either. Must have washed them away in the bathtub"  
"Hi Samuel" the CPS woman had become less stiff when she saw the boy and the man interact so easily. "My name is Janet"  
"Hi Ma'am" Sammy stood next to his Dad.  
"Can I ask you some questions" she offered.  
"No ma'am" Sammy shook his head.  
"Why not?"  
"I don't know you ma'am. I'm not really sposed to speak to strangers"  
"That's very clever of you. But it's ok to speak to me. It's my job to make sure you are ok. Make sure no one hurts you and you are being looked after"  
"You don't need to. That's Dean and Daddy's job."  
"This lady is here to make sure I'm doing it right" Dad ruffled his hair and winked.  
"Why?" Sammy asked, as if it had never crossed his mind that someone needed to check something that obvious. The sun came up, his hair grew into his eyes and nothing hurt him. It was just the way it was.  
"Let's just answer the nice lady's questions. I'm sure once she has a soda and a chat with us, then she can check on some other people."  
"Okay" Sammy fixed his gaze on the woman. "What kind of soda do you like?"  
"Root beer" Janet answered.  
"Me too" Sammy beemed.  
"Dean?"  
"Yes Sir?"  
"Fetch our guests a root beer from the fridge."

"I'll help" the officer followed Dean into the kitchen.  
"Can you get the glasses off the top shelf please? Mr?."  
"Vaughn" he reached up and took down four tall glasses.  
Dean took the two root beers from the fridge and put them on the kitchen table. "I'm not allowed to climb on the chair. Fell off, Dad said I can get stuff off that shelf when I'm damn well tall enough" Dean grabbed a carton of milk. "Sorry sir. I shouldn't cuss" he made sure the man saw the fridge was clean and well stocked.

---------------------------------

It was the fullest shopping cart Dean had ever seen his Dad get. He used the gas money for the whole month. The second from last thing he put in was a cheap pack of cards.

----------------------------------

"Does your Dad cuss a lot Dean?" Vaughn made sure to look the boy in the eye. He saw none of the fear of people, you saw that in a kid getting knocked about.  
"Only when he is angry or scared. He was scared when I broke my arm. But I thought it was cool. Not the breaking part, that was stupid, got to see the bones in my arm. Have you ever been x-rayed?"  
Vaughn nodded.  
"Would you like root beer or milk sir?"  
"Root beer sounds just right"

Dean took out another bottle and bumped the fridge closed again. He poured the milk into the first glass and the bottles into the others. Taking a plastic tray from a worktop he loaded two glasses on it.  
"I'll take that" Vaughn looked at the sling on the boy's arm.  
"I can do it, Sir." Taking the tray in his good hand he looked at the door. "Could you get the door for me please, Sir?"  
Vaughn took two large steps to the door and was rather surprised to find the younger Winchester child staring back at him. Dean moved round him, not spilling a drop. He put the tray down on the table.  
"Good job Kiddo" John smiled at his son. "Grab your glass, I'm sure Mr Vaughn can take his own."

Janet smiled at Dean, now sitting on the floor at his Dad's feet. Sammy had his head in his hands and was staring openly at Mr Vaughn. The man was clearly uncomfortable. Dean was amused. He knew what Sammy was doing.  
"So, Mr Winchester.."  
"John. Call me John" he smiled his 60 watt smile. Best keep the big guns for the difficult questions. Conserve your ammo.  
"John. You work some long hours." She consulted her notes.  
"There are always broken cars to fix" John shrugged. "New town, starting at the bottom. Need to put in a bit of overtime. Joe is good, if the boys get sick I can stay home. Lets me work nights sometimes too."

"Who looks after you when your Dad is working Dean?" Mr Vaughn tried to ignore the younger Winchester staring.  
"Corinne"  
"Who is Corinne?"  
"Our neighbour" Dad pointed to the left side of the house. "She works at the dinner on the interstate. I forget the name. Her boys are all grown and moved out. She says it's good to have these scallywags running round her house from time to time."  
"That would be after school?"  
"Until I get back from work. One night a week, I go to Dean's sport night. I went to see all of Dean's games in the last month."

----------------------------

That was true. The team usually went out for food after. Dad always seemed to have an urgent repair job when it was his turn to take the team. Only twice. So no one was too mad yet. There wasn't going to be a third time. The last thing Dad put in the cart was a large bag. Dean was too old for playing games anyway. He could always charm a bigger slice of pie and some milk for Sammy. He didn't need team to sneak an extra slice to his brother.

-----------------------------

"We'll need to speak to your neighbour"  
"She said something about working a double shift today. But I'm sure if you leave a card, she'll be happy to give you a call." Dad added helpfully.

The rest of the hour went quickly. More so after Sammy turned up the staring a couple of notches. Something about it unnerved Mr Vaughn.  
"Tell Janet what time it is Sammy" Dean had to ask on the hour. That way Sammy always got it right.  
Sammy had been learning to tell the time. He had got the hang of "on the dot" time. The big hand being on the twelve.  
Dean finished his root beer and automatically went about tidying the glasses to the kitchen.

After some stern faced "We will check up on the situation" noises, they left the house. Dean had heard many times before. They turned to go to the house next door. Dad closed the door with a wave and the 80 watt smile. He hadn't even needed to go up to 100 watts this time.

Maybe they'd be together for a some time yet.


	2. Chapter 2

Monday: Nurse's Office

Mr Winchester had forgotten to send a note. Mr Spence had taken one look at the boy and sent him to the nurse's office.  
Dwarfed by the large chair, legs swinging, he looked up at the nurse. Panda rings on both his eyes.  
She knew that even the slightest bump could cause a black eye. Boys were always fighting. But this went beyond playground. "Where does it hurt?"  
Sam pointed to the back of his head and the rather nasty bruise on his right arm.  
"How did you get hurt?" she asked. The child looked away "Did someone hurt you Sammy?" she asked quietly.  
"Not someone. Something. I wasn t watching like I should."  
The door opened and Dean Winchester walked in. "He fell off his bike"  
"You can tell me the truth Sammy," She got down to his eye level. Blocking his view of his brother. Dean Winchester was bad news. Bad news, with a broken arm. They were usually late to class, dressed in second hand clothing. If it wasn t for Sammy's cheerful disposition and Dean's unblemished report card (if you didn't count the gambling games), they would have been reported to child protective services.  
Maybe it was time.

* * *

**Kitchen table: Tuesday**

"Home visit. Yadda yadda. Check environment. Blah blah blah. Expect the Spanish Inquistion Thursday. Take matters seriously at St Margaret s School. Blah blah. Lots of love and kisses. The Headmaster." Dean screwed the letter up and put it in the bin.  
John regretted letting Dean read the letter. He had been working in the pit under a tricky car all afternoon. It had given him eyestrain. "Anything else?" he asked.  
"That's it. The other one was just about me. Apparently I should be in the next grade. What with the genius and everything," Dean bragged.  
"What does genius mean?" Sammy asked.  
"Smart alec!" John sighed and started to write a list.

* * *

**Wednesday: Charity shop**

The door opened. That bell jingled a warning. Mrs Penn watched the boys carefully. Bad news. Her eye was twitching the whole time they stood by the door, with their father.  
Scruffy.

"Dean? You got your watch on?" he asked the boy.  
"Yes Sir."  
The child seemed respectful. But her eye knew better.  
"Good boy. Sammy, what time does Dean s watch say?" Dad asked.  
"Three o clock on the dot!"

"In fifteen minutes, when the big hand gets to the three, I want you out on the street ready to go" he left, letting that angry little bell jangle on her nerves again. She stood six feet away and tidied a shelf that didn't need it.  
"I wanna be a lawyer" the little mop headed boy said as he picked up a red skirt.  
"Like Matlock?" the hoodlum asked.  
"Yeah. How do I get to be Matlock, Dean?"  
"Age about 50 years and get a bad suit."  
"Dean!" the child was a whiner, she knew they were trouble.

"Ok. Calm down. Grab that vase"

"How Dean?"  
"You got to study how they do things. Like when Dad shows us things. Listen to what they say. Make it part of you Ok."  
"How about this?" the child held up a pair of red fish net nylons.  
"Put that down!" his brother hurried to hide the clothing. "I have a better idea," taking the younger boy by his grubby hand, he walked straight for Mrs Penn.

"Pardon me Miss?" he smiled. It changed his face from devil to angel, almost like flicking a switch.  
"Restroom is for employees only," she wouldn t have those children, with their fingerprints, in there again.  
"I'm sorry ma'am. We are in a real hurry. Our Grams just called from the airport. They lost her bag. Said they would find it in a day or so. But she hasn't got any clothes or woman's things. Dad went to gas the car up. We don't want to bother you by asking you to get things from the top shelf."  
"I could stand on your shoulders," the little one said.  
"That's a good idea champ, but, if say, someone of about Gram's age, was to have dropped off a bag of clothes. Maybe something unsorted we could just grab that, pay for the vase and be on our way?"  
"Follow me," nice boys. Thinking of their Gram's well being.

Maybe it was just dust in her eye.

**Wednesday: Supermarket**

John reached for the Jell-O.  
"Two Daddy!" Sammy was so excited. John could tell Dean was as well. He had taken them shopping hundreds of times. Pushing trolley round the corner, he checked both the boys had their weapons. Dean had a knife in his back pocket. Sammy had Dean.  
Dean had been scanning for trouble since John had announced 'No limits today boys'.

John had got a credit card in the post a week earlier. Not addressed to him. Not his. Usually he made the money, from the odd jobs he worked and hustling a little poker here or there, stretch. Never real theft. Drunken games of poker were fair and mostly legal. He had meant to take it to the Post Office. Return to sender. Not known at this address. Fraud? Was he ready for fraud? If he didn t get his family the right side of apple pie today, well, there was a good chance they would be taken away. Away. Not safe. That thing could get them and that was worth fraud. Was worth anything. Everything.

"We'll have a roast dinner on Sunday. All the trimmings. I'll even cook sprouts."  
"Yuk" Sammy stuck his tongue out.  
"Ok. Not sprouts. Deano! Go grab some carrots" John pointed towards the vegetables. "And potatoes!" If they all went, then Sammy would spend an hour asking what everything was.  
He just wanted to commit one final fraud for the day and go back to the house. On the way out he grabbed a new pack of playing cards and. a large hold all bag.

Maybe it was time to go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~x~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Sam: So how'd you pay for that stuff? You and Dad still running credit card scams?  
Dean: Well, yeah. Hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career. Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards.~ Pilot(1:01)


End file.
